


Time Enough

by ToukoTai



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: City Fall Aftermath, Family of choosing, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Lost Love, Moving On, one tired titan dad and his three idiot hunters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-12-18 10:26:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18247961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToukoTai/pseuds/ToukoTai
Summary: When you're semi immortal, it's easy to forget that time still moves.Until an alien invasion of your home forces you to remember in the worst possible way.





	1. Chapter 1

 

“Okay, let’s go through this _one_ more time.” The titan propped his fists on his hips surveying the line of three hunters in front of him. “Does everyone have their field rations? Jen? Diego?” He turned his attention to the “problem child” of the group. A misnomer, they were _all_ problem children. “Avery?”

“No.” The titan bit back a sigh. His clan had warned him that working with hunters would try his patience, but he hadn’t fully believed them. It wouldn’t have mattered anyways, he chose this for a reason. He could no more walk away from these hunters then they could walk away from him. They were all each other had.

“And why don’t you have your field rations, Avery?” The exo shuffled her feet a little, while her two companions watched her. Diego, with his arms crossed and Jen, leaning forward a little to see around him.

“I forgot.” She mumbled. Which was understandable for an exo, they didn’t _really_ need to eat. But still! The titan pulled a container of rations out of his inventory.

“Here. You _always_ forget, so I made a spare pack for you.” Avery accepted the package with _glee_ written all over her body language.

“Aw thanks, chief! You’re the _best_!” The titan was glad that he was an exo and therefore, couldn’t blush. He wasn’t quite used to the easy compliments on something other then fighting techniques his hunters threw around _all the time_.

“It’s Raider-6” He said, coughing slightly, more for the gesture then because he needed to clear his throat. He had yet to get them to stop calling him ‘chief’. ‘A losing battle at this point.’ His ghost declared in the back of his mind. “Now, next item.” Raider-6 mentally moved down the checklist for outings. “Spare ammo?” His optics focused on how Jen was toeing the grass and dirt with her boot. “Jen?” He prompted. “Did you remember to stock up on special ammo for your shotgun?”

“...no.” Jen poked her fingers together. “I got distracted picking up some new armor.”

“Fair,” Diego said, eyeing her gauntlets. “Those are some badass gauntlets.”

“Right?” Jen held out her arms for everyone to inspect the new gauntlets. “I got a new shader for them and everything!”

“Yes, yes. Very nice.” Raider held out a pack of ammo, the label bright green. He dropped it into Jen’s open hands. “Please try to focus on the _immediate_ needs next time.”

“Will do, chief!” Jen gave him a lazy two fingered salute and Raider didn’t even bother trying to correct her.

“Right, moving on. Does everyone have their emergency aid kit?” All three hunters suddenly found the scenery much more interesting then him. Diego even tilting his head back to inspect the cloudless blue sky, like a Cabal Ripper Pod might come hurtling down at them at any time. Even though they were right outside the City’s walls. “Really guys? We’re going out into the _wilds_! Anything can happen! You need to be prepared in case our ghosts can’t help us.”

Even as he talked, Raider was pulling kits out of his inventory and handing them over. Color coded of course. Avery’s case was a light blue, like her cloak. And held things that an exo would need. Small pliers, wire cutters, extra wires, several tubes of oil. Avery-3 accepted her’s with a flash of light from her mouth plates. A smile in other words.

Diego had a thing with burning his fingers. _Gunslingers_ , Raider-6 muttered to his ghost, and had made sure that at least _two_ different tubes of burn cream were packed in the dark green kit. Raider gave Diego points for popping the kit lid to inspect some of the contents before slipping it into his inventory. Flashing Raider a thumbs up as he did so.

Jen tended to get cut more, so her’s had extra needle supplies and heavy duty bandages, she accepted the purple case. Her eyes lit up when she saw what was hanging from the handle.

“That is the _cutest_ key-chain I ever saw.” She unhooked the tiny pink kitten figure from the case, slung her auto rifle around and re fixed it to hang off the butt. Raider-6 had gotten a penguin for Diego and a snake charm for Avery-3. It had been an impulse buy in the marketplace. He’d seen them out of the corner of his eye while picking up extra supplies, they’d made him think of his team. His dumbass, no survival instincts, team. Jen jumped forward, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders, the tips of her toes juuuust brushing the ground because of his height. “Thanks, chief!”

Raider gave her a quick squeeze back. He’d found that they let go sooner the less fuss he made and the quicker he returned their affection. Sure enough as soon as he let go, she bounced back into place. Raider-6 gave them a last glance over.

“Okay.” He announced, watching the hunters shudder into readiness. Diego bouncing a little on his heels, and Avery-3’s fingers flexing in the folds of her cape. “Let’s get out there.”

 

Running with hunters was different then running with other Titans.

As a group titans tended to _through_ any obstacle in front of them. Hunters tended to go _over_.

Raider-6 was used to running in a tight formation. One in front, two at the sides. Never very far from each other, easy to pull together to bulldoze anything that stood in their way.

His hunters didn’t like that formation, they liked to spread out, stretch their legs. See trouble before it got to them, and maneuver around it, rather then ride right into it. At least one was always out of eye sight, scouting. It made his servos _itch_ not being able to see all his team as they traveled. Though he could generally tell where one or two might be. They kept him in the middle of their loose formation, so they could pull together around his rally point if a fight was inevitable.

It had been an adjustment learning to work with them. And quite honestly, Raider-6 was pretty sure that if it wasn’t for Araceli, he’d never had decided on his own to group up with hunters.

It wasn’t that he was adverse to working with other Guardians, or even hunters specifically. Raider-6’s clan was a fairly well sized one. Fairly active too. The majority of the members were titans, with a scattering of warlocks and a decent amount of hunters. He hadn’t thought too much on hunters before. There was usually one or two in the larger parties he’d worked with before, but typically, Raider-6 grouped up with other titans.

Then the Red War happened.

And _everything_ changed.


	2. Chapter 2

Araceli was a titan and one of his very best friends. His first friend outside of his ghost, in fact. They’d been revived in the same area, around the same time, and had stumble through the first weeks of being Guardians together. Both had been classed as titans but with different affinities. Whereas Raider-6 swung more to being a striker, Araceli was a natural sentinel.

The two of them worked extremely well in the field, Raider going in fist first and Araceli providing cover for when Raider’s Light needed to recover. Over time, the two of them had branched out. Finding new guardians to team up with, though they still got together on a regular basis to do a patrol or three...or six. While Raider went with other titans, and cycled through fireteam set ups every other week, Araceli had found a troop of hunters. On Raider's end it wasn't that he didn't like working with one set, it was that he liked working with _variety_. The more guardians he could work well with, the more missions and patrols he could take. Araceli on the other hand, stayed with her hunters for a simple reason.

“They’re idiots.” She’d said to Raider, slamming back her drink. Her ghost snickering over her shoulder. They had a standing habit of meeting up at least once a week for dinner and drinks. To bitch about their teams, or gossip about their friends, or share stories of their latest exploits. To enjoy being in each other’s company. Guardians couldn't get drunk easily but that didn't mean there wasn't comfort in the gestures. “Complete _idiots_.” Araceli smiled fondly. “But, they’re _my_ idiots.”

She always had a new set of ridiculous stories to tell him when they met. About how one hunter had “accidentally” rammed the other’s sparrow off a cliff when racing. How their night stalker had tethered a teammate to a tree because he was being too annoying. Their Gunslinger waking the others up with his exploding knife trick when it was time to move out. The bladedancer static shocking anyone dumb enough to touch her and their nightstalker falling _every time_ for the handshake shock gag after _every_ successful sortie. Raider wasn’t sure exactly what normal behavior looked like for a hunter, but he was sure Araceli’s pack was an exception. (At least he hoped so.)

“They’d be dead without me.” She said, half musing, staring at the mirror behind the bar. Struck by a thought, she turned sharp eyes to him. “If anything happens-”

“Nothing will.” Raider-6 cut her off. He didn’t want to hear it. They’d all lost friends and allies along the way. Even now several centuries out from their resurrections, sometimes a Guardian didn’t make it back. Raider didn’t want to think of a world that Araceli wouldn’t be in.

“If. It. _Does_.” Araceli was equally as determined. “Look out for them. Promise me.” Raider vented a sigh.

“ _Fine_. I’ll look after your wayward warriors.” Raider-6 promised, Araceli nodded once, and they went back to swapping stories and the latest crucible scores like nothing serious had happened.

He hadn’t quite meant it, at the time. It was notoriously hard to kill a guardian and make it stick. Raider-6 had thought that he’d have many more decades, centuries even, with Araceli. Maybe even forever before they died their final deaths.

 

The Red Legion turned that into five years.


	3. Chapter 3

Raider-6 didn’t know what happened to Araceli and her pack of hunters in the City’s fall. He’d been out on a patrol, on the way back from Io actually, with a few other titans, and when the Traveler was caged, they’d pulled rank close. Hiding out in the darkness of the galaxy until they received a transmission from Commander Zavala about regrouping on Titan.

Of course, they’d gone. What titan wouldn’t?

The only thing no one had counted on was the Arcology being rife with Hive.

 

At first they’d tried fighting back.

(It was a futile attempt. Doomed to fail from the start.)

When Raider-6 was the only member of his fireteam to survive a foray into Hive territory, the reality of their situation quickly caught up with him.

No Light, no healing, no abilities, no resurrection.

They could only do so much against the Hive’s superior numbers and home court advantage. Having lived on the arcology for so long, many of the passage ways were marked and transformed with their presence. They knew the in’s and out’s of this place, which meant the hive knew the right places to throw ambushes from and which positions were more advantageous then others. Knowledge the Guardians didn’t have.

Knowledge that had cost Raider his fireteam.

They’d tried to stand their ground, but the hive kept coming.

They’d retreated to find a better rally point, but the was overwhelming and knew _exactly_ where they were going. They lost more and more as they retreated. Dragged kicking and screaming under clawed twisted bodies, torn to pieces in the furor or burning in sickly green flame. Thrown off a broken catwalk to the methane sea below. He’d fired his weapons until there no bullets left, punched until his armor had started to give way, and still the hive kept coming.

Until he was the only one, and the Hive _knew_ it.

There was no one left to stand with or protect, so Raider-6 did the only action available.

He booked it.

Followed his broken ghost’s static whispers, if _he_ couldn’t beat the Hive, he could at least get them off his tail. Raider slid around a corner and came up running, a pack of thrall on his heels. Only a little further, just a little bit more and he’d be out in the open.

Where the Fallen were.

And the one good thing about the Fallen following them from Earth?

They _hated_ the Hive more then they hated the guardians.

The resulting fire fight was _loud_ and bright and Raider-6 managed to escape with only a little clawing. A few sparking wires. And the screams of his dying fire team etched into his core.

 

When he made his report to Commander Zavala, it was like watching someone else pilot his body. The only way he could get through it was by falling back on what was routine. Pretend this was any other mission and tomorrow all his friends would be back. Just for now. Everyone had lost people. Grieve later. There wasn’t any _time_ for anything else. There wasn’t any use for a guardian crippled by grief.

 

As things stood right now, the war was unwinnable. This position was unsalvageable. This was a mistake.

As Raider-6 looked around, talked to other guardians. He started to _worry_. His ghost tried,  of course, to keep his spirits up. But the little drone’s voice was faint and fuzzed with static. It only served to worry Raider-6 and made him feel more alone then ever.

Araceli wasn’t here, none of her hunters were here either. No one had seen any of them since before the City’s fall. Raider-6 could only hope she was safe on Earth in the Wilds. But she might as well be on the other side of the universe to him.

All he could do right now, was hold the line on Titan for as long as he could until something broke.

Which turned out to be a single Guardian arriving only a month or so after the City’s fall.

A single Guardian with their Light. Who came riding in like a lone gunman from a classic pre golden age movie to save the day.

Or at least make it less terrible.

If one guardian could get their back, maybe the rest of them could as well. Maybe this war was winnable. (Maybe all those lives lost would be put to rest.) Raider-6 allowed himself to hope that everything would be okay. Especially, when the Commander gave the order to pull out, leaving Solane with a small cadre of Guardians to hold down a base of operations.

(Raider-6 only felt slightly guilty about being glad that he wasn’t one of the guardians staying behind.)

 

At the Farm he felt the first _real_ spike of hope and his ghost shivered in the back of his mind with anticipation.

There were Guardians here, civilians too. But mainly, _Guardians_. Ones that hadn’t made it to Titan. There was still a chance that Araceli was here, safe from the Hive and the disaster of Titan.

Mostly there were Warlocks, helping set facilities for the refugees and for the guardians up. Planning, pulling maps from of the area from their memories, putting together reports and set reps and just generally being _Warlocks_.

A few Titans here and there, helping train the civilians to defend the Farm, to protect themselves. Standing guard at the gates, patrolling the crowded campus. Lord Shaxx was even running a slightly less deadly crucible.

But there, at the edges of the Farm, running scouting ops, being sentries, were _hunters_. Lots of hunters.

It didn’t take Raider-6 very long to find the hunters he wanted. But when he did, he almost wished he hadn’t.


	4. Chapter 4

“Araceli didn’t...she didn’t make it.” Avery-3 told him, Diego’s hands curled in her cloak. His brown eyes staring mutely up at Raider. Raider-6 felt like all of his systems had turned off at once. He sat down heavily. He came so far, and lost so much, always believing in the back of his mind that she was out there somewhere, waiting for him. Only to find, at the end of his journey, that Araceli was dead. Had been for a while now, had, in fact, _never_ been waiting for him.

She’d never yank him back by the scruff his armor again, never knock him off a cliff onto a squad of enemy soldiers. He’d never get to see the way her short hair stuck up in sweaty spikes after taking off her helmet, or how her eyes sparkled in the light of dawn. No more waking up to his ghost saying there was an incoming transmission from her, or listening to her voice tinged with annoyance as she ranted at him about a mission going sideways, or a stupid thing a clanmate had said or done. He’d never again meet her for drinks at their favorite hole in wall and talk for hours and hours into the night.

The one constant in his universe, the rock on which he laid the foundations of his existence, was _gone_. All the things he thought he’d have time for, the things he’d wanted to say. Would remain unsaid now.

Unknown.

A crackling static forced its way out of his throat. Too overwhelmed to cry, to scream, to do anything more then moan in that terrible static. His ghost mourned with him. Faint broken humming that ran in an unbroken litany in his mind.

A pair of arms circled around his waist, another pair wrapping around his shoulders from behind. The sound of fabric sliding over his armor, catching on its cracked edges as a cloak was draped over his helmet, hiding him from view. His own hands clutched at the body pulling him close, he pressed his head against the chest in front of him. Uncaring of the helmet in the way, thankful in a distant way, for the cover of the cloak.

Exo’s can’t cry, but he _was_ human. And humans _mourned_.

It wasn’t just Araceli he mourned, but his fire team, lost to the Arcology. His clan mates buried under the rubble of the city. His friends, old and new, guardian and civilian. Gone now.

Forever.

 

When he came back to himself, it was night. The faint lights from camping lanterns, bare bulbs and camp fires lighting the area. Nothing that couldn’t be covered if the need arose. The quiet murmurings of people going about their business. Children being tucked in, soft whispering of people talking, the muted sobs of sorrow. The noise of the living surrounded him. And he realized that the two hunters hadn’t left him. They were exactly in the same place they’d been when he’d broken down.

Avery-3 holding him from behind, kneeling on the ground with her chin resting on his helmet, humming something slow and comforting deep in her vocalizer. Diego was asleep in Raider’s hold, arms still circling his waist, forehead resting where his collarbone would be if he still had bones. Small sighs instead of snores puffed against the metal of his armor. He must have been absolutely _exhausted_. Hunters weren’t exactly known for dropping off easily, though they _were_ known for falling asleep in random places. (“In a _tree_ , Raid! An honest, to Traveler, _tree_! Jen had to climb it to wake him up.” Araceli’s voice whispered through his processor. “Glad we found him before a Fallen did. Idiot hunter could have gotten himself killed.”)

“You awake there, chief?” Avery whispered into his audios. Raider didn’t trust himself to speak, so he nodded. His ghost remained a quiet presence, sadness still seeping through their bond. Diego grumbled, and snuggled his cheek on Raider’s shoulder, ignoring the armor. “Do me a favor? Carry him to medical. And I’ll.” Avery-3 stopped for a moment, gathering herself. “I’ll tell you how Araceli died.”

 

It wasn’t easy moving a sleeping hunter without waking them. But Raider preferred this kind of challenge to the ones he’d been getting recently.

In medical he found the third member of Araceli’s hunter gaggle, Jen. She was sleeping on a cot, bandages wrapped tightly around her middle, her ghost nestled on the pillow in between the curve of her neck and her cheek. It flashed a blue optic at him and went back to minding its own business.

Following Avery’s mimed order, Raider-6 lowered Diego onto the cot next to Jen. Diego was a small guardian and Jen was very slight, the two managed to fit together perfectly, Diego curling against Jen’s side, and Jen throwing an arm sleepily around his shoulders. After making sure both were comfortable, and Jen’s Ghost wasn’t in a position to be squished. Avery quietly walked outside medical, Raider following slightly less quietly behind her. Titan armor wasn’t made for stealth, and his steps were heavier then her’s.

 

“Warbeasts found us outside the walls.” Avery-3 whispered, even though they were some distance from the misery of medical. “Jen got in between one and a refugee. Not enough Light left to heal her.” Raider-6 nodded. Avery sat down on the grass of the small hillock overlooking the central area of the farm. “It’s hard to look at you.” Avery admitted softly. “She thought the universe of you, you know? ‘Raider-6 and I did this, and Raider-6 and I did that’. Always hoped you come along on a run. Wanted to see the two of you in action.” Raider sat down next to Avery, giving her some space. He deliberately didn’t look at her, turning his attention to the stars so far above them.

“We were in the marketplace, spending some glim when the attack came. She bought you something.” Raider-6 let out a slow cycle of air. “I can’t remember what now.” Avery’s fingers fidgeted with each other. With her cloak, her gun. She couldn’t seem to sit still. “I wish I’d paid more attention. There were explosions, and screams. She took charge, we were protecting civilians, trying to get them to a safe place to wait out the attack. And then...they put that thing on the Traveler.” Avery-3’s head bowed.

Raider-6 waited patiently. It was probably harder to tell then to hear. Because Avery had to relive those memories as she spoke. And if there was one silver lining in this mess, it was that Raider-6 didn’t have to see Araceli’s lifeless body. That in some way, to him, she could still be alive out there, somewhere. It was easier to think of her flying out into space, the black stretching before her, beyond reach of communications, off on a grand adventure, then lying dead in the broken ruins of the City.

“Araceli didn’t...she didn’t stop.” Avery’s synthesized voice crackled. “The Red Legion were coming and we...we still had civilians with us. She told us to get them to safety, that she’d cover our retreat.” Of course Araceli had. She was Sentinel Titan down to her bones and beyond. “The last I saw her,” Avery voice was more crackle and static then clear words. “She was holding off a Centurion. She didn’t stand a chance.” Avery looked up at the sky, exos weren’t capable of tears, not like flesh and blood humans or awoken. Raider-6 was grateful for that. Even now. He didn’t think Avery-3 was, from the shaky venting sound she was making.

“They shot her dead. I saw her helmet…” Avery cut herself off. “I saw her _fall_.” Raider-6 slowly put his arm around her shoulder, still looking up at the night sky. Under his arm Avery-3 shook and shook.

“It was quick.” Raider-6 said, even and calm despite the subject. “She didn’t suffer.” Not like his fire team had. Their screams still echoed in his dreams. Avery-3 leaned against his side, bringing him back from the blood drenched steel hallways of a far off moon to the present.

“No,” Avery-3 agreed. “She didn’t suffer. We got the civilians out, they’re all here. Safe and sound.” Raider nodded.

“A better legacy she couldn’t ask for.” He wondered what his own legacy would be. When the time for his final death came.

“We didn’t want to go.” Avery sounded so broken.

“What choice did you have?” Raider-6 vented a sigh. Grief curling in his chassis, his ghost humming a low toned dirge. “She knew what she had to do.” He felt Avery-3 nod. The motion moving his arm, still resting over her shoulder.

“Thank you.” Avery whispered, sounding like a weight had lifted off her shoulders, when his arm had come down on them. “She loves...loved you. We’re pretty sure.” Raider-6 shuttered his optics. “She never _said_ it but...she always lit up when she talked about you. And when she’d come back from running an op or meeting you, she _glowed_.” Raider-6 worked his vocalizer a few times, trying to think of the words to say.

“I...too.” He finally managed, static crackling the words. “I thought. I thought there’d be more _time_.” It was a hard lesson to learn too late. He’d lived for two hundred years, and died many more times then that. He’d always come back, some of his friends hadn’t. Dying their final deaths. But Araceli had always been there. It just hadn’t seemed possible that the day would come when she _wasn’t_. That _he’d_ be the one left behind while she went on ahead.

“So did we.” Avery-3 hunched her shoulders, not trying to shake him off, instead coming further under his half embrace. “We were gonna push her about it if nothing happened in a couple years.” He wasn’t the best at comforting others with his words, action was his forte. Raider-6 pulled her closer, tucking her to his side. She let out a long, low sigh. The final weight Araceli’s hunters carried, laid to rest.

 

They sat like that until morning, when the sun’s bright light turned the sky grey and then pink and then blue. Until Diego wandered out of medical and sat down on Raider’s other side. He didn’t even think twice about reaching out for the smaller hunter and pulling him closer too.

“What’s going to happen now, chief?” Diego asked, his hands resting loosely on his knees, his shoulders leaning comfortably against Raider in the shelter of the exo’s arm. Raider-6 didn’t even need to think about it.

“We make it through this. We send the Red Legion packing. We give Araceli a proper goodbye.” He said, each word firm and sure. Diego nodded, lapsing back into quiet.

“‘We’?” Avery asked. “You sticking with us, chief?”

“Someone has to keep you three alive.” Was his answer.

 

Raider-6 had promised Araceli in the bar that night several years ago. Her death didn’t change his promise.

He said that he would look after her hunters, and he would.

Until the day of his final death.

**Author's Note:**

> I like writing characters who aren't the main player. There's just so much sandbox to play in!


End file.
